What Do You Do With a Ship Full of Demigods?
by EmeraldGarmadon
Summary: Based on my thought that Jack Sparrow could TOTALY be a son of Hermes! When a Hephaestus kid doing an experiment at a camp dance sends Travis Stoll and Clarisse la Rue back to the 18th century, they encounter misadventure, scum and villainy, and brothers they never even dreamed they had... T for alcohol (rum, duh) and violence. NOT Travis/Clarisse. Slight Tratie and Sparrica.
1. What Just Happened?

What Do You Do With a Ship Full of Demigods?

A PJO/POTC crossover. **Try not to laugh. Scratch that. Totally laugh.**

**(A/N: So, as the summary said, I based this off the SoM statement that Blackbeard was a son of Ares, and my thought that Jack Sparrow totally fits the criteria for a son of - guess who? - HERMES! **

**So here's what's going on - the CHB dudes are having a camp dance. Some crazy Hephaestus camper decides it would be a good idea to try out the new magic/technology thing he's been working on, a travel device. However, it ends up sending Travis and Clarisse back to the 18th century...)**

**DISCLAIMER: RICK RIORDAN OWNS PERCY JACKSON. DISNEY OWNS PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN. I OWN THE IDEA. **

_**Camp Half-Blood, 21st century**_

Travis Stoll looked lovingly at Katie Gardner walking arm-in-arm with him, her mousey brown hair flowing around her shoulders, complimenting the floral-print minidress and gold leggings she was wearing for the camp dance. Travis smoothed out his checkered shirt and Levi's, and they walked into the dining hall together. Travis mingled around with his friends a little, watching carefully to see if anyone left their wallet unguarded. He and Katie rolled their eyes at the giggling Aphrodite kids at the snack table.

Clarisse la Rue arrived a little late, just as the first song was starting, her boyfriend Chris Rodriguez beside her. The lights gleamed off her dark hair, tied up in a long braid, black jeans, biker-style leather jacket, and the sheathed dagger she never went anywhere without. "Hey Katniss, how's Peeta?", Travis called out to her.

"Mind your own business Stoll!", she yelled right back, pulling Chris onto the dance floor and joining the three-step dance that some Apollo kid was teaching everybody.

"_Just a small-town girl, livin in a lonely world. She took a midnight train goin' any-where..."_

The campers free-styled and did the latest dances - Percy Jackson and a few other brave campers even tried Gangam Style moves - and Clarisse joined in singing on "Hit Me With Your Best Shot."

Now that, Travis thought, was worth coming to the dance just to see.

"_Come on with it come on, yah don't fight fair. That's okay! See if I care! Knock me down t's all in vai-ain, I get righ' back up on mah feet aga-ai-ain!"_

The night ended with a slow couple's dance to Imagine Dragons.

"_I'm comin' home to you-oooh-oooh. Every night, every night, every night. My mind is made up, nothing can change that. I'm comin' home to you-oooh-oooh. Every night, every night, every night..."_

Travis and Katie, and Clarisse and Chris were the last pairs to leave. And it was Clarisse who noticed the kid lurking darkly in the corner, hunched over something. Uh-oh. Oh, not now, she thought, not when I was just having a great time with Chris. Not something weird or gods forbid another fight. Oh, please, Father, not a fight now. "Stoll", she said, keeping her voice low. "Stoll, get over here." Travis bounded over.

"Yes, my dear lady La Rue?"

"You see that shape in the corner?"

"That guy? Yeah."

"We should check him out. I have a feeling he's up to something." She walked confidently over to him. "Di Angelo? That you?"

"OK, it's ready!", was the only thing the kid said, probably to himself. Then he saw Clarisse and Travis. "Hey you guys, stand back while I test my-"

_ZAP!_

"-transporting device..."

"GODS-BEEPED HEPHAESTUS KIDS!" was the first thing out of Clarisse's mouth when the smoke cleared.

"WHAT THE HADES?" was the first thing out of Travis'. Then they looked around. At each other. At the landscape. At the town. Which was definitely not anywhere near Camp. And one word escaped from both their mouths at once.

"TARTARUS."

"Young people!", came a scolding voice from behind them. "Enough strong language, if you please!"

They turned. Standing behind them was a tall man with a dark-blue coat. Clarisse recognized him from history classes and pirate movies. An 18th century naval officer. She looked at Travis and mouthed " Oh Styx."

Travis nodded. In their case, " Oh Styx" probably meant "We're so caught. RUN!" - which they did. When in doubt, run, Travis thought. When they were safely out of his sight, Clarisse stopped, fished a drachma out of her pocket, and tossed it into the foaming waves near where they stood. "Oh Iris goddess of the rainbow accept my offering", she chanted. "Show me Chiron, Camp Half-Blood...21st century."

No response. Apparently Iris-messages didn't work through time. Which only meant one thing - they had gone back in time. Great, great, great, Clarisse thought, STYX! One minute I was having the time of my life with the love of my life, and now some crazy tech-head kid has sent me back in time with Travis Stoll, of ALL the people to be stuck with!

"Um, where are we anyway, Miss Everdeen?"

"Travis Stoll, if you won't stop it with the Hunger Games references, I will smack you. Stop calling me Katniss Everdeen, NOW."

"Sorry."

"I think we are in some kind of 18th century seaport. Look, up there there's a naval fort. And ships, over there."

"You can sail?"

"I did sail a ghost ship full of dead Confederates. Whaddaya think?!"

"Good. Cause I can get you one." Clarisse knew exactly what he was thinking.

"No. No. No. And no, no, no. You can steal a lot of things, Travis Stoll, but not a ship that size."

"Wanna bet? You remember the time I - ahem - borrowed the Apollo cabin's rowboat before the races? There was so much decor on that thing it shouldn't be much difference, right?"

"Travis...no. You can't sail a ship with two men!"

"Yes, you can." That was a newcomer voice. "It's been done."

Clarisse turned to face the speaker, a man who looked to be in his thirties with crazy dreadlocked hair. "By whom?"

"Myself, laddie-boys."

"I'm a girl!", Clarisse bristled.

"Well well. I suppose you hit like one too."

"Want a demonstration?", she said menacingly.

"No. Anyway, myself and a young hot-head called Turner, we commandeered a ship all by our poor selves, we did. And, if you are actually interested, I can do it again."

"Done.", was Travis' response. "Totally done."

"Good. By the way, I'll be callin' meself Jack Sparrow. Captain Jack Sparrow, mind ye."

**(A/N: Can anyone else totally see Clarisse singing that song? Note, I may not update for a while. Vacation.)**


	2. Can We Trust Him?

**(A/N: I'm ba-ck! Here's our next chapter, and I need some feedback from you on something: If I were to add one more PJO demigod into the story, would you vote for -**

**PERCY JACKSON**

**THALIA GRACE**

**LEO VALDEZ**

**NICO DI ANGELO**

**-OR-**

**AN OC**

**Anyway, here's the chapter! Btw, Porto Belluze is not a real place, as far as I know. I got the name from a really old movie that I watched with my sister - a 1974 German version of "Pippi Longstocking".)**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN PJO. I DO NOT OWN POTC. I DO NOT OWN TRAVIS, CLARISSE, JACK, OR ANYONE ELSE WHO APPEARS HERE. **

_**Porto Belluze, 18th century**_

Travis Stoll looked confusedly at the landscape around him. Three hours ago, he hadn't even known time travel was possible. Nor, for that matter, had he actually been thinking about it at the time. Now, he was stuck in the 18th century, with Clarisse la Rue, tagging along with a pirate. All he could think was that he was biting his nails, he shouldn't be biting his nails, what in the world was he going to tell Katie?, and he probably looked _really _out of place in blue jeans. Maybe this was all a bad dream. Maybe he'd wake up back at camp, with about ten minutes left to get ready to leave camp. Or maybe he was already at home, and he'd wake up smelling his mom's (burned) breakfast. _Sigh._ Well, as long as he was here, and no one was paying any attention to him, he might as well go see if he could barter for some decent clothes.

Clarisse la Rue, on the other hand, was in total shields-up-red-alert mode. She was trying to remember everything she knew about 18th-century pirates (not much) and wondering twenty thousand different things - who is this guy? (Don't know), can we trust him? (probably not), where are we? (no idea whatsoever), how do we get out of here? (ditto question three). "Hey, Kat - Clarisse!"

"What?"

"I got us some clothes," Travis said.

"Stolen?"

"Nah. I gave him my last drachma for 'em."

"You did WHAT?"

"He didn't know what it was!", Travis half-squeaked. "I think he might have had some dealings with sons of Hermes, though. These pants have those special pockets on 'em, like my jeans." Travis stepped behind a large rock - mostly trying to get away from Clarisse's glare - and stepped back out wearing a too-big white shirt, trousers with a rip in the knee (now that looked rather like a Stoll brother), shoes with metal buckles, what looked like a ripped-up red naval officer's coat, and a floppy hat that reminded Clarisse of her aunt's sun hat. "Okay. Now you get those on."

"Alright," said Clarisse, "but if either of you try to get a look, you'll see stars!"

When she stepped away, Jack whispered to Travis, "How close d'you think she'll stick to that?"

"You will see stars. And possibly get your nose bloodied."

When Clarisse walked back out, Travis did a double take. This didn't look anything _at all_ like the Clarisse he knew. Of course, he'd never seen her in anything but battle gear, bikers leather, or camp t-shirts and cameo. She was wearing a white shirt like his, with a solid black vest-like coat, black sea pants and boots. She had let her hair down. A useless article that Travis had thought looked like a Batman cape or something, she had tied around her waist like a short skirt. Seeing her in a new way, Travis had to admit it - Clarisse was hot.

Travis Stoll!, he scolded himself, You have a girlfriend!

Clarisse was having none of it anyway. "What in Asphodel are you lookin' at? Let's go."

Down at the harbor was a ship. It was perfect - it didn't even look like it belonged to anyone, Travis thought. Too bad it was really small. And it had a tear in the sail. Hey, if Clarisse could sail a ghost ship of (un)dead Confederates, she could probably sail this.

Taking the boat was too easy. No one seemed to be around, and the wind was great. "She hasn' got a name. What should we call her, mates?", Jack asked as they sailed off.

"The _Nemesis,_" Clarisse suggested, "or the _Nike._"

Travis gave her a funny look. "Nike? You want to name our pirate ship after your tennis shoes?"

"No, you idiot!", she yelled. "The goddess of victory!"

"Stop the yellin', blast it!", Jack exclaimed. "I like _Nemesis. _It suits us."

"Whoever you are," put in an unknown voice, a female voice with a tinge of a Spanish accent, "I want to know - why is my new ship sailing off, before I have it ready?"

Jack turned quickly, and found himself staring into the eyes of a brunette woman with a sword in her hand. He bit his tongue, but not i time to stop something a little stronger than 'blast' from escaping his lips.

"Angelica! This is your ship? What the - ahem, respecting the ears of the younger crew-boys, what the _heck_ are you doing here?"

"Turns out you're not the only pirate who's hard to kill, Jack Sparrow," she said. "But as I'm here and you're here, a temporary alliance seems in order?"

"No."

"Yes."

"Maybe."

"Um...okay, now that that chaos is done, I vote yes," said Travis. "No offense to you and your past experiences, Jack, but we need more crew."

"I vote no," said Clarisse. "I don't trust anyone around here, present company _not_ excluded."

"Jack? What do you say?"

"Oh...fine."

**(A/N: Well, that's that, introduction of Hector Barbossa and Gibbs in the next chapter and probably some talk of godly parents...**

**Btw, the idea of Travis' mom burning the food is a fan-canon fact I got from "You Stoll My Heart" by 27lablover. It's a great Tratie story. Read it. trust more you'll like it.)**


End file.
